Musical Chairs
by Moon Raven2
Summary: My responses to the musical shuffle meme making the rounds on LJ.  Two rounds so far, 10 drabbles each round of various genres and focusing on various characters.  Check it out! Round 2...
1. Chapter 1

**Musical Chairs**

**a/n: **Round 1 of my participation in the music shuffle meme floating around LJ right now. I thought I'd publish them here, too. :) For those of you not familiar with the rules...

1. Pick a character, fandom, pairing, friendship, whatever  
2. Put your music program on shuffle/random and start playing songs  
3. For each song, write something inspired by the song related to the theme you chose earlier. You only have the song length. No pre-planning or writing after the song's over. No skipping songs, either.  
4. Do 10 songs and post. Make sure to include the song name/artist.

I have my stories listed as "Song," _Record_, Artist.

Characters/Pairings are, in order, Morgan+Garcia; Elle; Reid+full team; Reid/Prentiss; Morgan+Garcia; Reid/Prentiss; Reid; Hotch+Jack; Diana Reid; J.J.

Enjoy! And I love reviews. :)

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**1. "Pretty the World," **_**Beneath These Fireworks**_**, Matt Nathanson  
**_"Show me how pretty the world is,  
Cause I envy the way you move."_

Derek Morgan stepped into Penelope Garcia's cubby and marveled. He'd seen the space a hundred times, but it never failed to amaze him. She decorated it with color and glitter and trolls. A screensaver of baby pandas and puppies flickered across her many computer screens. A collection of pens topped with feathers and pompoms and little boingy things rested in a cup beside the keyboard.

He often wondered how someone as sensitive and loving as Garcia managed to do the job she did, but one peek into her sanctum sanctorum gave him his answer. She was Garcia, and she surrounded herself in the beautiful, the sparkly, the just plain _cute_, and she used it as a balm to the raw wounds the job inflicted upon her.

He wished he knew how to borrow some of her optimism. He came to see her only rarely (she usually sought him out, with some sort of innate sixth sense for knowing when he needed her), but when he did it was for one reason: he wanted to see the world through his baby girl's eyes.

**2. "Just as Well," **_**The Green Room Sessions**_**, Ari Hest  
**_"Oh what a waste of time;  
Should've known better than to rebel.  
I know it's just as well;  
I know it's just as well."_

Elle Greenaway had wanted the job with the BAU as badly as she'd ever wanted anything in her life. She'd spent her career proving that she was good enough, tough enough, smart enough…she'd proven herself to Gideon and Hotch and the rest of the team…and now?

Now she had nothing.

She _wanted_ with all her heart and soul, and she couldn't bear the wanting. She wanted to be back with the team. She wanted the rush of chasing down an UNSUB, of getting inside his head, and figuring out what made him tick. She was sick inside at the thought she'd never do it again.

She didn't understand how the world could go on turning. Wasn't her ache great enough to stop the stars? Apparently not. She was just one woman, one rash, foolish woman who had been given everything she'd ever wanted…and then thrown it all away.

Just as well, she thought cynically as she watched the rain. Just as well.

**3. "Sailing Over the Ocean," **_**Above and Beneath**_**, SWIM  
**_"I'm sailing over the ocean  
Just to kill time.  
I'm leaving all the commotion and worries  
Behind."_

"I don't like boats," he said before turning an alarming shade of green and retching over the side.

Prentiss ran a comforting hand up the thin line of his back. "It's ok; you'll get used to it. Try to breathe."

Reid gasped; retched; muttered something very uncharitable about Rossi's mother. Prentiss stifled a giggle. "Didn't you take the Dramamine like Hotch suggested?"

"I don't…get…motion…sickness!" the young doctor gasped.

"Apparently you do," J.J. disagreed. She offered him a cup of something fizzy with a sympathetic smile. "It's Alka-Seltzer. Drink up."

He smiled weakly and tossed it back. "Ugh. I hate that stuff." He moved on legs as shaky as a colt's from his spot by the rail to join Morgan and Hotch at the front of the boat (surprisingly, Reid was completely ignorant of any sort of nautical terms, and after this experience, he thought he'd stay that way) and sat down with a groan.

"Great day, huh?" Hotch said, smiling at him from behind dark glasses.

Reid glared.

"Don't tease him, Hotch," Prentiss said. "He's having a rough time. I mean, the boat is rocking all over and the waves are crashing and the wind is blowing…"

Reid went green again and ran for the rail. Rossi's laughter could be heard floating down from the wheel, and J.J. went below to make another Alka-Seltzer cocktail.

**4. "Til Someone Catches a Feeling," **_**Lovely Creatures**_**, Bob Schneider  
**_"I don't wanna be damned.  
I wanna be tan.  
I wanna be a real man."_******  
**  
Reid tried to watch her surreptitiously. He didn't want her to notice how obsessed he was. He didn't want her to know…everything he _wanted_.

She was beautiful and smart and funny, and he was…a freak. He talked too much and thought too much and he was completely unworthy of her. He watched quietly as she laughed at one of Morgan's jokes and tossed her midnight hair. His eyes feasted on the lines and planes of her face. She was so beautiful.

He wished things could be easier. He wished he could be normal. He just wanted to talk to her, a real conversation, not a lecture or a lesson, just something casual. He wanted to ask her to dinner and kiss her. He wanted an experience.

**5. "Baby's in Black," **_**Real Love**_**, The Beatles**_  
"Baby's in black,  
And I'm feelin' blue.  
Oh what can I do,  
What can I do?"_

Garcia hadn't been the same since Alaska. Morgan watched her and worried. She wasn't as bright as he was used to; her smile was slower, and her wit didn't have its usual rapier sharpness. She moped. He didn't know how to help her, and it made him panic.

He was supposed to be her knight in shining armor, and he felt like he was failing her every time he caught that lost, sad look in her usually bright, snapping eyes. He brought her cookies, but since he couldn't bake they were practically inedible. Normally that would've had her laughing and teasing him, but she just smiled, accepted them, and later told him she'd enjoyed them.

He was at a loss, and the unfamiliar feeling didn't please him in the least.

**6. "The Way Life is Supposed to Be," **_**I'm Good Now**_**, Bob Schneider  
**_"You'll never be what you'll never be,  
But you can always be the one for me, baby."_

Prentiss knew he watched her. He tried to be subtle about it, but she was a trained profiler, and subtlety wasn't really his strong suit. He looked like a schoolboy with a crush, she thought, but she sensed there was more to it than that. There was something stronger in his eyes than just unrequited affection.

She thought she saw longing in those deep-set hazel eyes, a mournful, lonely look that came and went like a whisper. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was just a crush, and she was completely off base in thinking that Reid having a crush that he couldn't act on was symptomatic of so much more.

She wished she knew how to tell him how overrated "normal" was. He was Reid, geeky and awkward and too damn smart for his own good, and it suited him perfectly. She wished he'd stop thinking so damn much and just _do_ something. He couldn't change the way he was, but he could get what he wanted…if he'd just reach for it.

**7. "Babylon," **_**Draw the Line (Deluxe Edition)**_**, David Gray  
**_"I've been afraid  
To tell you how I really feel,  
Admit to some of those bad mistakes that I've made."_

He flipped through the channels for the hundredth time. There was nothing on. No _Star Trek_. No _Doctor Who_. Nothing. He yawned, bored. Stood, restless. He needed…something. A fix. A nap. His apartment was empty and echoing, and the TV did nothing to fill the silence.

He glanced at the phone. It was late, but not _so_ late. He could call her. What would she say? What would she do? He could invite her over. They could play chess…

Wow. He'd just plumbed new levels of geek.

Reid sighed; ran a hand through his short, tangled cap of hair. The new cut was still unfamiliar, and he sort of missed his old hair. It gave him something to hide behind.

He paced. Stared at the phone. Tried to do a few of the physical therapy exercises the doctor had given him for the leg, but then gave up in disgust. Inside his apartment, time was crawling. Outside the world was rushing by at a million miles a second. While he acted like a crazy shut-in, he was missing everything. Life. A chance.

He shrugged into a jacket and grabbed his keys. He hadn't driven much since the shooting (hadn't driven much _before_, truth be told), but he didn't have time for the train.

Reid took three steps toward his car, and then stopped. Turned back to the apartment. Shook his head in utter disgust and long-legged it to the small blue car before he could stop again. He was sick of missing out on life.

**8. "The Infancy of Us," **_**What's Mine is Yours**_**, Eliot Morris  
**_"I don't mind you thinking;  
I just hope you'll think this through.  
It's the infancy of us;  
Never mind the time we'll live on trust."_

Hotch watched his son sleep. He wished he'd made it home sooner, early enough to hear about Jack's day and give him his bath and put him to bed. Unfortunately, his job had come between them again. In slumber the boy looked so peaceful; his mouth relaxed; a small hand thrown out from under the covers, the tiny fingers slightly curled.

He touched the boy's head gently, reverently, the touch so slight that Jack didn't even stir. Hotch wondered what his son dreamed of. He hoped it was only good things. He didn't want his child troubled by nightmares; he didn't want him to worry about the world outside the small, protected life he and Haley had tried to create for him.

Hotch sighed; pulled the quilt to the boy's chin. Dropped a feather-light kiss onto his forehead before backing out of the room, never once taking his eyes off the sleeping child in the bed.

**9. "The Winning Side," **_**The Airborne Toxic Event**_**, The Airborne Toxic Event  
**_"Because the only thing I think  
When I wake up in my bed,  
And my stomach churns  
As these pages turn,  
Is the world burnin'?  
Is it only in my head?"_

Diana Reid constantly worried about her son. She hated that he worked for the government; she worried that they had recruited him to get to her, or to use his incredible intelligence for their own dark purposes. Spencer claimed they did no such thing, but she had never trusted the government. Why should she? They just…

Well, never mind that. She was taking her meds, and she understood on one level that all her thoughts and fears about the government were just delusions born of her illness. Another part of her would never accept that, and that's how she knew Spencer had done the right thing when he committed her.

She'd almost hated him for it – almost, because she could never truly hate her beloved boy – but over time she had come to see his wisdom. He couldn't have a life if he had to worry about her. She _wanted_ him to have a life. She wanted him to be happy. She might question his job choice (she also didn't like his sensitive mind being exposed to all those horrors, one after another), but she knew it fulfilled him.

All a mother – any mother, ill or healthy – wanted was happiness for her child. Though Spencer never admitted it, Diana worried that he was lonely. She wished he would come see her more often, but she enjoyed his letters. She read another one, about another case (though he kept the details sketchy), and she smiled at the picture he'd sent her.

At least he'd cut his damn hair.

**10. "Leaving All Your Troubles Behind," **_**honeydew**_**, Shawn Mullins  
**_"Jenny, you are the fightin' kind,  
But you're leavin' all your troubles behind today.  
You never thought you'd turn that curve;  
You never thought you'd have the nerve to walk away."_

J.J. stared at the pile of files covering her desk and despaired. How were there still so many? How could they catch one after another, but still cases poured in? Sometimes she felt like a gerbil on a wheel.

The contents of another file took her back. She stared at the pictures of small town America and remembered her own childhood. She was glad to be out of East Alleghany, glad to be away from all the politics and backstabbing of small town life.

Her parents had been astounded that their golden girl, their J.J., had decided to join the FBI. It had seemed irrational to them, a decision made in haste and with lack of forethought. Her friends had questioned her sanity. Her boyfriend had grown impatient with the hours and walked out on her.

J.J. had known this was where she was meant to be, where she could do the most good, and in the end she'd been right.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: **Round 2! Not really sure what happened to my shuffle here; I got Ari 3 times and The Beatles twice.

Characters/Pairings are, in order, Reid+Prentiss; Hotch/JJ; Reid+Garcia; Reid/Prentiss; Reid; Rossi+team; Hotch/Haley (sorta); teenage!Emily; teenage!Hotch/Haley; Gideon.

Enjoy! And I love reviews. :)

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**1. "Come Down," **_**Coil**_**, Toad the Wet Sprocket**  
"_You did right to call my bluff,__  
Because I won't say when I've had enough."_

"You think you're so fucking secretive, but really you're just a punk. A punk kid who thinks he knows everything. Now would you open the Goddamn door? I'm not going anywhere, and the neighbors are starting to stare."

The door slowly opened and a hazel eye blinked at her through the gap. "Christ, Prentiss, it's 2am. What the hell?"

She held up a small vial full of clear liquid. "Explain this," she commanded.

He gaped at her. How…? Where…? Fuck. "Um."

"Excellent. Now let me in."

He hesitated, but finally stepped back and opened the door. She brushed past him and into his messy, smelly apartment.

"You look like an addict, Reid," she said as she stared around in astonishment.

He shoved thin hands into his pockets and hunched bony shoulders. "Maybe I need some help, Em."

"Smartest thing you've ever said, kiddo."

**2. "Lovely Rita," **_**Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band**_**, The Beatles**  
"_Standing by a parking meter,__  
When I caught a glimpse of Rita,  
Filling out a ticket in her little white book."_

Hotch hated days like this. He could deal with psychotic UNSUBs, interfering bosses, and even heightened terror alerts. What he couldn't deal with were the days when J.J. looked like she'd just stepped out of the pages of some magazine, and every time he glanced at her he found himself staring at her like a dumb kid.

She kept catching him at it, too, and he could swear it amused her.

Hotch sighed; scrubbed his face with both hands; tried to concentrate on the paperwork piled on his desk.

She was as good as married, he reminded himself. They worked together. There was no room for his lack of professionalism in their relationship.

**3. "Laundry Room," **_**I and Love and You**_**, The Avett Brothers**  
"_Teach me how to use__  
The love that people say you make."_

She was in his apartment. She had brought cookies. She was _cleaning_.

"I can get that, Garcia, it's ok," he said hastily.

"Don't be absurd, my pretty genius. You just sit your skinny self on that couch and let Nurse Garcia take of everything!" She gave him a gentle push, and when he started to protest again her glare shut him up. She passed him the tin of cookies and a glass of milk (she'd also gone to the store for him on the way over) and resumed straightening his haphazard living room.

"Do you have any sort of system here?" she asked as she stared in consternation at his crowded bookshelf.

"Um. Sort of. It's complicated…"

She glanced over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. "I'll just put them here for now. You can fix them later."

He watched her bustling around in astonishment. Garcia was a one-woman army, and he was awestruck. She'd stormed in twenty minutes ago and declared that anyone who'd recently been shot should be taken care of. He'd been helpless to stop her, and now his place was nearly spotless.

Spencer Reid wasn't used to accepting…love. But he knew that Garcia, by coming here to clean up and bring him groceries and cookies, was offering just that. He felt a strange, fluttering warmth in his chest, and a crooked smile spread across his face as he watched her.

**4. "Morning Light," **_**Drive**_**, Graham Colton Band**  
"_And don't go away.  
__Say you'll stay  
Until the morning light."_

"You don't have to leave."

"I think…I think I should…"

"If you're sure?"

"No. No, I'm not sure, but…"

He reached out to cup her face in his long-fingered hands. "You can stay." He brushed her midnight hair back, ran his fingers through it, and leaned closer.

She looked up at him with wide, startled eyes.

"Please stay," he murmured just before his lips met hers.

She let out a little gasp of surprise, but then he felt her mouth curve into a smile. The kiss stretched, deepened, and she curled her fingers into his light curls. "You had to go and cut it," she whispered against his lips.

He laughed a little breathlessly. "I thought you liked it."

"I do," she murmured. "I do."

He kissed her again.

She lost her train of thought.

"So you'll stay?" His breath was feather-soft across her cheek.

"Yes. I'll stay."

**5. "Unwell," **_**More than You Think You Are**_**, matchbox twenty  
**"_All day, staring at the ceiling__  
Making friends with shadows on my walls.__  
All night, hearing voices telling me__  
That I should get some sleep.  
Because tomorrow might be good for something."_

He stared wide-eyed at the ceiling and wondered how the hell he'd ended up here.

The bright red digits of the clock told him it was after 3 in the morning. His head was pounding like a jackhammer. Every bone and sinew and joint ached like a raw wound.

It was worth it. It had to be worth it. He hadn't used the Dilaudid in nearly 24 hours now, and he thought he might die without it. But of course he wouldn't. The pain was withdrawal; it would end soon. It had to end soon.

And then he'd be free.

He pulled the covers up over his thin, shivering frame and prayed it would be over soon. He wasn't a praying man; his lack of faith in any higher power was one of the things that had kept him away from a 12-step group; but at that moment he would take any help or solace he could get.

He pulled a breath through chattering teeth and tried to remember how he used to be.

**6. "Fascinate You," **_**Someone to Tell**_**, Ari Hest**  
"_Maybe you're taking your time.  
Maybe you don't even care.  
Sometimes I wish I were much more easy to scare."_

"I don't get it. I've done everything. I've wooed her. I've courted her. What the hell else does she expect?"

"Rossi, man, maybe you should just give it up. Clearly not every woman is susceptible to the David Rossi charm."

"That's a terrible lie, Morgan. I just have to figure her out." The older man winced as he settled into the plane's generous seat, and Prentiss eyed him.

"Still hurting from that session at the gym?" she asked while sneaking a glance at Morgan.

Rossi glared at them both. "Hey, it's good for me."

Morgan laughed. "Damn, Rossi, you got it bad. Is she really worth it?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I think so."

"Well good luck to ya. We've got a poll goin'. I think I'm gonna win."

"I hope you bet on me, Morgan, because I always get my lady."

**7. "Sleep Tonight," **_**Guilty Hearts EP**_**, Ari Hest**  
"_I'm goin' to sleep tonight,  
Cause I don't know what to do.  
I'm goin' to sleep tonight;  
I don't have the strength for you."_

"_I'm sorry, Aaron," she said, her face creasing as the tears began, "but I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving."_

_ He stared at her, gape-jawed. "I don't understand. Haley, please, let's just talk—"_

_ She shook her head. "There's nothing left to say. I'm sorry. I love you."_

The memory was too raw, too immediate. He took another long pull of Scotch in an attempt to erase it. He knew it was his fault. He knew he'd driven her away. But that didn't make it any easier.

He'd tried to convince her to come back, but she'd refused. And now he was just tired. Worn out and used up. As much as he loved her, he wasn't sure he had the strength to beg anymore. He had always been a proud man, but this wasn't about pride. It was about…futility. It was futile for him to keep pleading with her. She'd shut the door behind her, and now he was alone.

He sipped his drink and flipped through an old photo album. He wasn't helping the situation any, he knew, by wallowing, but sometimes a man deserved a good wallow.

But he was as tired of feeling sorry for himself as he was tired of begging his wife to reconsider. Sighing, he returned the album to its place on the shelf. He ejected the CD playing the same maudlin song over and over. Setting his empty glass in the sink, he flipped the lights off and went upstairs to bed.

Alone.

**8. "Across the Universe," **_**Let it Be**_**, The Beatles**  
"_Pools of sorrow,  
Waves of joy,  
Are drifting through my open mind,  
Possessing and caressing me."_

Emily took a long drag and let the smoke seep out between her parted lips. She passed the joint to John and sat back with a giggle. "Wow. Just wow."

"I told you!" Matthew said with a grin. "It's awesome, right?"

"Oh my God, my mom will _kill_ me if she finds out!" Emily gasped.

"You aren't gonna tell her, so how's she gonna find out? Not like she'd ever come track you down or anything."

Emily giggled again and nodded. "Yeah, right. That'd be the day. Shhh, let's not talk about her anymore. It's killing my buzz." She said this last with the intense gravity she felt the phrase deserved, but a moment later all three of them were laughing hysterically.

"You're such a loser," John said, tossing a Cheeto at her.

She grinned. "Takes one to know one."

"Ooo, I'm injured."

"This shit makes me witty as fuck. We should do this more often," she said.

"You're such a loser."

**9. "Angel," **_**Everyday**_**, Dave Matthews Band**  
"_Why do I beg like a child for your candy?  
__Why do I come after you like I do?  
I love you."_

Aaron couldn't believe he was doing this stupid play. It was a _musical_ and he had to wear a ridiculous hat. It had a feather. And he had to dance; he was a terrible dancer, and he hated doing anything he wasn't good at.

He should just quit. It wasn't like she'd really noticed him anyway, except to whisper to her friends and laugh whenever he walked by. They were probably making fun of the stupid hat. He actually didn't blame them for that.

No, he couldn't quit the play. As unsuited for the stage as he knew he was, Aaron Hotchner never started something he didn't finish. So he'd continue making an idiot of himself and hope maybe Haley Brooks noticed. In a good way.

He sighed. Ran both hands back through his dark hair. He should bite the bullet and talk to her. It was the only way to make this all worth it. In the careful, methodical way he had, he began to plan the encounter down to the last detail. It all culminated with him smoothly and suavely asking her out, and her saying yes.

It couldn't fail.

Hopefully.

**10. "They're on to Me," **_**Someone to Tell**_**, Ari Hest**  
"_Every step I am taking,  
I feel I'm under attack."_

He was tired of pretending. At first he'd been almost amused, watching them hold their collective breath as they waited for him to lose it again. He'd been determined to keep himself together this time, to do his job and not lose his…shit, for lack of a better term.

He hadn't lost it. He was still the same calm, analytical man he'd always been. He was doing this so he _didn't_ lose it. He was tired, as he'd written, of pretending to love this job. The thrill of it had died in him, and he was afraid he might lose himself completely if he didn't get out soon.

It would be hardest on Spencer. He hoped the note would assuage some of the hurt and betrayal his young protégé would feel. He knew he should speak to him in person, but this was too huge. He was, he admitted to himself, too much the coward.

He sealed the envelope. Placed it on the desk beside his badge and weapon.

At the door he paused and stared at the little tableau for a moment. With one final shake of his head, he flipped the light switch and closed the door behind him for good.


End file.
